


Rent Money (Or sleeping with the boss to make it)

by JessKo



Series: The 113th Rule [1]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Begging, Desk Sex, Dom/sub, Knifeplay, Knotting, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oo-mox, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Quark Pussy, Sadism, Scars, Xeno, implied Garak/Bashir
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:01:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28005066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessKo/pseuds/JessKo
Summary: When measuring Quark for a custom garment, Garak discovers something about the Ferengi he’d never considered.He’s slept with Gul Dukat for rent money. Multiple times.
Relationships: Dukat/Quark
Series: The 113th Rule [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2051157
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	Rent Money (Or sleeping with the boss to make it)

**Author's Note:**

> This one is a little intense, so please heed the tags. There is mention of blood, but not in detail. Dukat is not a very caring lover. 
> 
> I hope you all like this first addition in a new series: The 113th Rule: Always have sex with the boss.

“I don’t know why you let Bashir just… take up space in here so often.” Quark muttered as Garak drew the blinds, creating some privacy from the promenade for the Ferengi’s fitting. 

Garak smiled to himself, “From one businessman to another, sometimes not everything is about the act of spending.” 

Quark shrugged, stepping onto the raised pedestal at the center of the tailor’s shop. “Oh, don’t worry I know the importance of establishing some rapport, but don’t you think that is a little excessive? You already waste an entire lunch hour on the man, and that is prime time. Everyone knows pockets empty more easily on an empty stomach.” 

“Maybe so, but I believe that this investment is a worthy one.” Garak responded casually, not quite answering the question as usual. 

Quark didn’t bother pushing further, instead opening the clasps on the front of his jacket. Slipping it off, and then his vest, he passed the articles to Garak to hang before inquiring, “Explain to me again why you can’t just use your electronic sizing tool?” 

Garak unbuttoned the top of Quark’s tunic as he replied, voice lowered due to the close proximity. It was almost intimate, in a strange way. “Because for the type of garment you are requesting, I need more than just your basic measurements. And to do that, the instruments must be used on bare skin.” Reaching the bottom seam, Garak pulled it slowly off Quark, exposing his chest. 

Quark instinctively wrapped his arms around his midsection, covering a round stomach with small folds in the smooth flesh. “Alright, well, understand this is…” 

Cutting the Ferengi off, Garak added airily, “Uncommon for your species, I understand. Pants?” 

“Right.” Quark kicked off his boots and then undressed further until all that was left were skin tight undershorts. He immediately felt the chill of the air and just wanted to put everything back on, but he had promised Grilka that he’d have the traditional Klingon outfit for some traditional ceremony of hers, and if this was the price to appease her, so be it. 

“I’ll make this as painless as possible for you.” Garak said, beginning to measure Quark’s shoulders with red threads that came out of a specialized device. They wrapped around him and then tightened as the machine pulled, testing his body’s give and tolerance. Oh yes, Grilka had better be appeased. 

Quark scoffed at the comment. Painless, how precious, coming from a Cardassian. He debated warning Garak about what he’d eventually find, or if he should gamble on if the tailor would even bring it up. As Garak walked around him, Quark realized his time was up. 

At first, Garak worked silently, threading around Quark’s ribs, but as a rough hand traced a line down the Ferengi’s spine, Quark knew the inevitable question was going to be asked. “What’s all this? Spending more time with Klingon’s than you’ve lead us all to believe, hm?” 

Chuckling at Garak’s observation, Quark shook his head. “No, no. Grilka might be intense, but she’s not into that. It’s from one of yours actually.” 

“Mine?” Garak commented as he traced a thin scar, one of many, that lay just above Quark’s hip. “From during the occupation then? These are not from the whip of punishment, Quark.” 

“Nah, they’re from paying rent.” 

As he adjusted the threads lower, Garak humed, “Well this I have to hear.” 

“As I’m sure you understand, profits were slim during the occupation. It’s not that business wasn’t booming, it certainly was. The problem was trying to get the patrons to pay. You may be perfectly honest,” Quark had to pause for a moment to keep from laughing at his statement, “But many were not and simply left without paying their tab. Lost a few good waiters who fought for the bills to be paid, but after the third we all decided that it was better to simply live another day.” 

“A wise decision, arms up please.” 

Quark did as asked, somehow feeling even more exposed and sensing heat rush to his face. Being practically nude while bringing up these particular memories may not have been the wisest choice, but he was this far already and might as well continue. 

“Due to this, I had to ask Gul Dukat if there were any alternative arrangements that could be made, and to my surprise he was more than happy to invoke rule 113.” 

* * *

Gul Dukat tapped his fingers on his desk, considering the pathetic creature before him. Whatever possessed him to allow a Ferengi to stay on Terok Nor after that freighter dumped him here was beyond him, but he did have to admit that a fully operational bar did offer a morale boost for his men. So, the Ferengi stayed so long as he could pay rent. But now he claimed that he didn't have enough for this cycle, and with palms raised in the air begged him for an alternative. 

Ever since Quark’s arrival Dukat had studied his culture in spare idle time. Not much, but he understood enough that the man would be willing to do anything to keep his business afloat, and there were some things that were hard to come by these days, being in charge of a station, occupation, and all sorts of other important things. There was no time to go home and enjoy the finer things in life, like a good fuck. 

“Very well.” Dukat growled, looking Quark over. He may not be pretty, but he looked sturdy, and willing, so that would do. “Correct me if I am wrong, but there is a rule of acquisition regarding the proper way to treat your… boss.” 

Quark inhaled sharply, like prey caught in a trap. “Well, there are a few, there’s 33, which I’d be more than happy to mix you a-”

“No, I do not believe I’m referring to that one. If I recall correctly, the number is one hundred and thirteen.” 

Tensing, Quark shot back, “Oh but do also remember rule two hundred and twenty nine!” 

Dukat grinned menacingly, knowing he won. “Oh, but you don’t have latinum, do you?” 

Quark conceded, bowing his head, “No, I guess not.” 

Dukat stood up, circling his prey before demanding a blade from the replicator, which spat out a thin, curved knife. “Undress, unless you are also sacrificing your clothing.” 

Snapping back to attention, Quark made one more offer, “Is there antying else you want? I’ve got connections, you know, good ones. Weapons, rare jewels, hell my cousin owns four moons.” 

“No, either leave this station entirely, taking that pathetic family of yours with you, or pay your dues. The choice is yours, I will let you go freely.” 

Quark didn’t take long in making his choice, shrugging off his jacket and laying it neatly on the desk, his other garments soon following. With his pants pooled around his books, Dukat didn’t give him the time to go any further, using the tip of the knife pressed against the base of his neck to push the Ferengi over the desk, bent over. Dukat kept pressing even when Quark’s face was pressed firmly into the discarded clothing, breaking the skin and eliciting a fearful chirp. 

This only egged Dukat on, and he dragged the knife down Quark’s body to just above his ass, two supple cheeks hiding whatever it was his species had to offer. Whatever it was, though, Dukat had to wonder if they would be compatible. It was a silly thought, though, every creature had some sort of passage, and if they had to use his mouth, so be it. 

Spreading Quark apart while lazily dragging cold metal along warm skin with his other hand, Dukat was delighted to find fat lips hiding deliciously wet folds. “Ironic. All that vitriol towards females and you are endowed like one.” Dipping two fingers into a waiting entrance, Dukat pulled up, forcing Quark onto his toes with a helpless yelp. 

Inside, he felt something distinctly not female, but Dukat was here for his own pleasure, not Quarks, and ignored the wiggling vein within. Holding Quark aloft, scrambling for purchase in a fight against pain, Dukat opened his fly and slowly stroked himself, ridged dry member standing tall with a grey, pointed tip. It’s scale like texture was known for drawing out pleasure, so he supposed Quark may have some fun after all. But that was the least of his worries as he scissored the tight passage open wider, inserting a third finger. He was as girthy as a closed fist, and internal bleeding was not nearly as enjoyable as that sort tended to end his pleasure early and lead right to sickbay. 

Quark’s breathing was fast, uneven, strained. They’d hardly even begun and he seemed to be at his limit. His legs shifted and he squirmed, a hand now fully pressing inside of him, groping with the only purpose of splitting him apart. For how narrow Quark had felt, he really opened up, and Dukat could not wait to be engulfed in this exquisite heat. Perhaps he now understood why so many considered Ferengi to be so desirable, they were pliant little things. 

Pulling his hand free with a wet pop, Dukat lined himself up, wasting no time in inserting himself to the hilt. Quark moaned wantonly, lowering himself back down onto the soles of his feet, pressuring Dukat deeper into him. That little vein he had felt began to swell, tightening Quark around him in such a way that Dukat could not suppress his own low growling, body warming with pleasure. Yes, he very well could see the appeal of such a sexual partner. Shame he’d let his prejudices keep him away for so long, but now he could catch up for lost time using this most valuable investment. 

As he slowly dragged his hips backwards, Dukat pressed his palm down where he’d previously cut Quark between the shoulderblades, twisting a metaphorical knife, blurring the line between pleasure and pain so that the Ferengi could only mutter incoherently, blue nails gripping the far edges of the desk. Dragging his hand down, Quark had to hold on tight to not slip off, but as soon as he started to fall Dukat jerked his hips, pressing back inside quickly and pushing Quark along the surface until his hip sockets were flush with the edges. 

“Don’t slip again.” Dukat warned, tracing on Quark's head where obscenely large lobes met a knobby skull with the dull edge of his knife, right behind ears he knew were sensitive, a natural weakness of this species. 

“You got it, boss,” Quark assured with a shaking voice, turning his head slightly so he could look up at Dukat. The man was in a frenzy, eyes wild and teeth gleaming. If Cardassians could sweat, he’d be absolutely drenched. His thighs were burning with heat against Quark’s chilled backside, and as Dukat began to thrust at an unrelenting pace, dragging back then shooting back inside like a rocket, it was all Quark could do to hold on tight and not let the sensations get the best of him. For once, he was glad a partner wasn’t giving him a lobe massage, that might have made this all too much. 

Quark knew this was a payment, purely transactionary, and that he was the product, but damn if he wasn’t enjoying himself. The dabo girls were always so gentle, willing, it felt strangely good to be overpowered like this. Dukat’s cock was impressive to say the least, and there was a thrill in knowing that he’d gain so much from, ultimately, doing so little. The cuts would heal, and the fuck was good, so what was there to complain about. 

Garak growled something Quark couldn’t catch. He heard the sounds fine enough, but the words were gibberish. He just nodded along and rode the wave as Dukat’s pounding got quicker and shallower. Such a fast speed was too much for Quark, erring on the side of becoming uncomfortable, but it wasn’t about his orgasm. When Dukat hissed, Quark braced himself and then felt the Cardassian’s entire body tense up. 

Dukat actually roared as he came, shoving Quark’s face down with one hand and gripping his shoulder with the other. His fingers were so close to his ears, Quark turned his head so that Dukat’s wrist brushed against the edge of his lobe, that’s the stuff. His skin was coarse, and little nodding motions generated friction enough to create the illusion of oo-mox while the man was distracted. 

“Don’t get too comfortable, I’m not finished.” Dukat said softly, grabbing Quark’s ear roughly and earning a screech from the proud Ferengi. He held on for two long seconds before releasing, leaving Quark hissing in air from between jagged teeth as he scowled up at Dukat. 

“Not finished?” 

“Cardassians knot their prey.” It felt so good finally saying the word that Dukat made a celebratory slash across Quark’s flank before beginning again with renewed vigor, tossing the knife aside. He pulled out for just a moment to flip Quark onto his back as easily as one flips a pad over. Throwing fleshy legs over his shoulders, Dukat dug his fingers into thick ass cheeks and lifted Quark up to just the right angle before plunging back into this newly discovered wonderland. 

Whatever he was going to say was cut off by how easily the Cardassian handled him. Quark’s surprised expression was priceless, as was when his pale blue eyes rolled back into his skull when the curved tip of Dukat’s cock dragged along his engorged vein, and the longing sound that escaped him. This only egged Dukat on, bringing his arousal to a head, but he was nowhere near his completion. He was proud of his stamina and hoped to see Quark a blubbering mess by the time he released into him. 

After some deliciously slow drags to break up his pace, and not lose his breath, Dukat noticed a change in Quark. He was flushed and sweaty and reaching out for purchase, taking a hold of Dukat’s forearms. Eyes blown wide, he mouthed something that didn’t quite reach the Cardassian, but he knew what it meant as Quark’s insides pulsed around him, tightening and rippling. 

Quark was about to come. 

Dukat slowed even more, hoping to prolong this needy state that Quark was in, begging for more, but that actually seemed to be what he wanted, throwing his oversized head back with a gleeful moan as his legs squeezed around his neck. Thick, mucous-y secretions dripped out and down Quark as he finished, and the vein throbbed and swelled further, seeming to move on its own. 

“It’s trying to come out, Dukat, please…” Quark pleaded breathlessly, trying to wriggle around Dukat but the Cardassian held him steady, relishing the extreme tightness held within, pressurized and ready to burst. He pulsed his hips, thrusting shallowly and not giving up his space, not allowing Quark’s… whatever that was escape. It was captured just like it’s body, and its fate was for Dukat to decide. And right now, he wanted it caged. 

Quark whined, and Dukat only gripped tighter. All that mattered was him, this tightness, this sensation, this moment. At such a steep cost, Dukat would be sure to wring out the Ferengi’s full worth. The struggle only aroused him further. For the pathetic, whining, miserable being that Quark was, he put up a good fight and even when Dukat’s nails broke the skin he continued to kick his legs and try and break free. 

“This isn’t going to kill you, is it?” 

Quark paused, inhaling deeply. “No, but it fucking hurts.” 

Dukat smirked, yanking Quark onto him quickly, their bodies smacking against each other. He hummed in satisfaction, Quark hissed. 

“That’s a new sound. Do it again.” Dukat repeated the motion, and Quark spat. Dukat lifted his whole body and slammed it against the desk. 

Quark hissed, cupping the back of his head. He didn't make much sound after that, glowering as Dukat had his way with him. So, Dukat slowed down and Quark’s expression softened. Releasing one hand, Dukat stroked the edge of Quark’s ear with a single finger, wanting to again feel Quark’s orgasm squeeze around him. This seemed like a good way to achieve that goal. 

“Touch the other one and I’ll come.” Quark teased in a soft voice, raising his eyebrows. “You’d like that, right?” 

Dukat didn’t acknowledge the suggestion, waiting until he felt the time was right, then as his nerves grew white hot he released Quark and massaged along the inner rim of his lobes with his thumbs, dragging fingers along the back edge. Quark melted beautifully and tensed around Dukat while the rest of his body went limp, and right as his vein began to breach out around Dukat’s cock as it slid out, Quark came again and Dukat shoved in against an incredible expulsion of slick and swelling of his walls. It was ecstasy and he nearly lost his footing, slamming a hand down onto the desk to keep his balance as the softer base of his cock began to swell. 

Quark swore as Dukat filled his post-orgasmic hole, filling the narrow space and spilling warm seed within him as Dukat laughed, the madman. “I do like it.” He said menacingly as he thrust lightly through his orgasm, knot growing quickly to lock them together. So filled and out of space, he began pushing Quark back and fourth across the desk with his movements, out of space within the Ferengi. He was dense, heavy and thick, looking to burst from the seams of his own skin, but Dukat was strong and his muscles flexed with the effort in a delightful way. Something about pushing to the limit just aroused him further as he continued to come into Quark. 

Behind Dukat’s head, Quark rubbed his feet together, causing his hips to twist and allowing some of Dukat’s iridescent blue semen to leak out around the edges, painting flushed orange skin in a strange sheen. 

“So, how long does this part last?” The Ferengi’s grating voice broke through Dukat’s bliss. 

He frowned. “Not much longer.” 

Once separated, Quark immediately began complaining. “You’re spunk got all over my clothes, how am I supposed to wear these? Plus, I’m going to get blood on them, Blessed Exchequer forbid I run to sickbay in the nude. You didn’t say you were going to-”

“Are you not satisfied with the payment arrangement?” Dukat snapped. 

Quark huffed. “Rule nineteen. Fine.” Dressing quickly, he wiped off as much as he could, but the clothes were wrinkled and moist. That was his problem, though, and not Dukat’s. His member was tucked away, sated for now. 

“We should do business more often.” 

“You’d like that wouldn't you. Don’t count on it.” 

Dukat made a mental note to encourage his officers to skip on their bill more often, and watched as Quark stalked out of his office. 

* * *

“All finished.” Garak announced, Quark lifting his foot so the loop of thread could be removed. 

“Took you long enough.” The Ferengi grumbled, snatching back his clothes as Garak offered them. 

“I think it took Dukat long enough.” Garak chuckled, but Quark just focused on buttoning his trousers. “Does anyone else know?” 

“Again, I’m surprised you don’t, but no. Usually just say there was an accident on the freighter, but I think Rom eventually figured out how we skated by without rent money that time, and a few others like it. He at least had the decency not to mention it again.” Quark said with a firmness that implied an additional meaning in the statement. 

“Of course, I can understand not wishing to see this on the daily briefing.” Garak assured, an unspoken agreement. 

“Of course.” Quark echoed, snapping the closures of his vest. With a sly grin, he looked up at Garak, “However, if you ever wanted to explore…” 

“I assure you that my time is spoken for, Quark, but thank you. As you know, business is busy.” Garak replied cooly. 

Quark raised his hands in submission, “Understood, enjoy your lunch with the doctor, Garak.” He added, next pulling his jacket on and smoothing down the front. “I’m sure he’ll enjoy it too.” 

“Goodbye, Quark. I’ll have the garment delivered when finished.” 

With a flamboyant wave of the hand, Quark turned on his heels and left the tailor’s shop, making his way back to the bar. Before he could cross the threshold however, a deep purr called to him, irresistible. 

“QUARRRRK!” 

“Yes, Odo?” 


End file.
